


Saturday

by bostonian



Category: The Facts of Life
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-15 09:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13027797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bostonian/pseuds/bostonian
Summary: We follow Jo and Blair on a random Saturday in December. Slight slow-burn.





	1. A Trip to Tiffany's

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fanfic, so we'll see how this goes! I just discovered The Facts of Life this year and fell in love with it. So, while I have some extra time thanks to winter break, I decided to take a shot at writing some stuff for them! This piece is meant to be more on the fluffy side, so don't expect any major angst (maybe I'll write something else for that), but I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> This takes place in the 80s, and I've done a little research, but please keep in mind that this is meant to be fun. Suspend your disbelief for small anarchisms, may they arise.
> 
> Also, this takes place around the end of Jo and Blair's run at Langley.

"Oh, Jo! Look at that necklace! Isn't it gorgeous?" Jo'd agreed to follow Blair around Tiffany's for an hour if she'd go with her to the Joan Jett concert tonight. It was boring as hell to walk around the showroom in circles, but Jo reminded herself that only hours later, she'd be in the presence of one of her IDOLS, and that was enough to keep from snapping at the little princess who was currently admiring what Jo thought was just a simple chain. You could buy one of those in an auto shop for a tenth of the price that they were tryin' to sell it for here!

"Yeah, I guess..." She mumbled.

"What do you mean I guess? Is it or is it not gorgeous?"

"It's a chain, Blair. Not really what I'd call gorgeous." Unless it was on a bike - then we'd be talking.

Rolling her eyes, Blair moved on to the next shiny piece that caught her eye. Now this one was truly gorgeous! A perfect string of pearls connected by a dainty diamond heart. "It's beautiful..." Her breath was taken away by its simplicity. While Blair adored glitz and glam, there was something to be said for natural beauty. She should know as she's also a natural beauty!

"That?" Jo leaned over to see what caused her chatty friend to shut up. Eh, it didn't look special to her - just some pearls, what's new? But Blair hadn't moved for the past minute. She had on that face - Jo called it her "museum face." It's the face Blair got whenever they went to a museum, and she stared at some painting for what felt like hours. So, maybe the pearls weren't anything special to Jo, but she had a feeling they struck a chord with her friend.

"Did you say something?" Breaking from her trance, Blair glanced up at Jo, noticing her impatience growing harder to ignore by the second. "Oh, don't worry! We'll be out of here soon. Look, Jo," She turned towards her friend, placing a hand on either shoulder, "I know this isn't your idea of a fun Saturday, but I do appreciate your willingness to accompany me without completely embarrassing us both."

Ah, as always, a potentially sweet moment turned sour. "It's not too late, Blondie. We're still here, ain't we?" A mischievous grin, Jo shook Blair's hands off of her and sauntered towards the nearest clerk.

"Don't you dare!" Tiffany's was sacred, and Blair was NOT going to let Jo Polniaczek ruin her happy place.

Looking back, Easy Rider shot up a brow, challenging Princess Di to stop her which resulted in one of Blair's notorious slow leaks.

As briskly as she could manage without causing a scene, Blair caught up with Jo and linked their arms together, refusing to let the brunette wiggle away. "Now, you're going to behave or so help me, you're going to that Jean Jett concert all by yourself!" She knew her name, but since Jo was acting like a child, Blair would too.

"Joan Jett," she corrected. "C'mon, Blair! I wasn't gonna do anything! I gotta say though...the look on your face just now..." Cackling, Jo imitated her friend, cracking up even more as she caught a glimpse of herself in one of the display cases.

As her friend mocked her, Blair pursed her lips, giving it five seconds before interjecting, "Are you done?"

"Not yet." Jo shot her final impression at Blair herself, enjoying the look on her face now even more than before.

The heiress threw up her hands in surrender, "Tu es bête!" Clearly, she wasn't going to behave. Blair's one shining moment of serenity was totally shattered by Curly over there. Another sigh, she buttoned up her cream-colored, wool coat and effortlessly slipped on a pair of black leather gloves. "I'm done."

"Blair..." Did she feel a tiny bit of guilt? Maybe. "Look, I swear. I'll be cool. Come on...you know you wanna buy somethin'...I mean, Blair Warner walkin' out of a shop empty-handed? That's unheard of!"

"Well...you're not wrong..." Searching Jo's eyes, Blair was able to glean the earnest sincerity that Jo worked so incredibly hard to hide - although, in all honesty, Jo couldn't hide anything from Blair. She was far too easy to read - every little thought was broadcast through her eyes. With a secret smile, Blair removed her gloves one finger at a time as she purposefully released an elongated sigh. "I suppose you're right. I do have a reputation to uphold! Jimmy?" She turned towards the clerk hovering behind the counter, "May I take a closer look at this one, please?"

"Certainly, Miss Warner." With a steady hand, he pulled out a gold chain necklace with a tasteful emerald at the clasp.

"Thank you." Taking the chain, Blair held it up against the neckline of Jo's sweater, "What do you think?"

"Blair, it's-"

"No, no!" A finger was quickly pressed against Jo's lips. "I was talking to Jimmy."

"Well, Miss, I think it's simply lovely! The green of the emerald truly brings out your friend's striking eyes."

Ruminating, Blair took a step back to get a better view of the look as a whole. He was right. The green brought further attention to Jo's already admittedly intense eyes. That's why she picked it out in the first place.

"Wait...wait a second," At first, Jo thought Blair was just using her as some kind of dummy, but she should've known..."You're not buyin' me a necklace! Blair, we've talked about this-"

"I know, but Jo! It's perfect for you! Think of it as an early Christmas gift!"

"Blair, you know I can't accept it. Gift or not."

Jo was always so stubborn about these things, and of course, after all this time, Blair understood and she learned. Whenever Jo's birthday or Christmas rolled around, Blair kept her gifts under $50, knowing her friend would refuse anything more expensive although that didn't stop Blair from trying every now and then, but today, she wouldn't press any further.

"Fine. If you want to keep depriving yourself of the finer things in life, who am I to stop you? Here Jimmy," She returned the necklace, "May I please see that ring?" Blair pointed at a silver-banded emerald with diamonds flanking the sides.

Noticing the emerald, Jo jumped into action, "Blair..."

"It's not for you!" Sliding the ring onto her finger, Blair admired herself in its reflection. "It's for me!" And a PERFECT fit. "I'll take it, Jimmy. Place it on my tab."

Jo smirked. Only Blair Warner would have a tab running at Tiffany's.

"Yes, Miss Warner. Shall I wrap it up or will you be wearing it out?"

"Hmm, I think I'll keep it on, Jimmy! I'm feeling festive." She flashed a dazzling smile before shaking the clerk's hand. From a young age, Blair was taught to treat retail employees exceedingly well, and in return, they always looked forward to seeing the young heiress glide through their doors - not only because their commission on her purchases was huge but because she was truly lovely to work with. She knew their names, she was an expert on current trends - Blair Warner was a dream customer.

"You sure you don't want anything, Jo?" Blair threw her a knowing grin.

"Positive."

"Well then, that will be all for today! Thank you so much, Jimmy. I'm sure we'll be seeing you again!"

"A pleasure, Miss Warner."

As they were greeted by the crisp December air, Blair looped her arm through Jo's, shivering against her friend's warm body. For some reason, the former Young Dodo always managed to feel toasty no matter how cold it may be.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

Blair lifted one of Jo's balmy hands to her own chilly face, "That!"

"Stop that!"

"Can't you feel it?"

Feel it? Well...she did feel something. But that's probably not what Blair was talking about...

"Whaddaya mean?"

"You! You're so warm! Good gracious, Jo! You're practically burning!"

"Get your paws off me!" Jo squirmed away from Blair's grip, putting some much-needed distance between them.

"I'm not a dog, Jo."

"Yeah? Cause you sure are actin' like one!"

"Jo!"

"Blair!"

"You take that back!"

"No!"

"Jo..."

"Blair...just...forget it." She didn't wanna start another fight.

They walked in silence for a few minutes as the moment settled. Tentatively, Blair linked their arms together again - she couldn't help it that her delicate body was vulnerable to the cold! Besides, it felt strange to walk together without some kind of connection. She was relieved when Jo didn't inch away. Instead, she slowed down to match the heiress's gait.

"Hey..." Jo broke the silence. "You wanna grab a bite to eat before the concert? I don't know about you, but I'm starving!"

"I could go for a bite." She offered Jo a soft smile. Whatever had passed just minutes before was irrelevant. That's how they operated. Push and pull, give and take - that's how they worked. It wouldn't do anyone any good to hold onto their silly tiffs. Besides, who had the energy?

"Okay..." Returning Blair's smile, Jo stuck her hands in her pockets, "You can pick - just as long as the menu isn't in French. I wanna know what I'm ordering."

Blair playfully rolled her eyes, "Fine. You know, I think I have just the place. Jo Polniaczek, you're about to see a whole new side of Blair Warner!"

"You mean there's more than one?" Her comment was met by a light slap to the arm.

You know...spending the day with Blair might turn out to be better than she thought.


	2. Where Everybody Knows Your Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you to those who have left kind comments! It means the world to me that you all are enjoying the story! I wish you and yours happy holidays and a wonderful new year!
> 
> As for a couple of logistical notes, I twist a tiny bit of canon (eg: when Blair and Jo went to the Chugalug Bar in The New Girl Part 1, it seemed like Blair had never been in a bar before, while in this chapter, she clearly is familiar with them), so we'll suspend our disbelief a little. While I like to include aspects of canon, I don't want to be limited by it, so please keep that in mind when reading any of my work.
> 
> Thank you and enjoy!!

"Blair!" A resounding cheer filled the room.

Jo stared blankly as her friend was greeted with hugs from a bunch of randos.

"Haven't seen you in forever!"

"Frank!" Blair gave the bartender a warm hug. Well, she was still cold from being out in the December weather, but the sentiment was as toasty as Jo's hands.

Still in shock, the only words Jo could think of were, "You know this guy?"

"I made a lucky guess." Blair dead-panned.

Shaking out of her stupor, Jo scanned the bar - it wasn't a place she'd imagine Blair to spend any of her time at. That's for sure. There were small tears in some of the stools, a bowl of peanuts on every table, and the walls had wood paneling - not the fancy kind of wood paneling you'd find in a rich person's library, but the normal kind of wood paneling you'd find in a normal person's house. It was kind of...cozy. Oddly enough, Jo felt at home, and that's what made it even more weird that they were here! It was a Jo kind of place - Blair wouldn't be caught dead within a mile of this joint, and yet...

"Frank, this is Jo."

"Jo! You're so big!" Frank pulled the brunette into a hearty hug, as if he'd known her for years. "I can't believe it's you!"

"Well...it's me!" Awkwardly, Jo peeled herself from the bartender. "Blair," she whispered through clenched teeth, "Mind explaining?"

Blair looked on with adoration as her friend was given an appropriately warm welcome. "Explaining what?"

"Why this guy is actin' like I'm Jesus comin' outta the tomb!"

Blair didn't bother to learn much about religion of any sort, but through her appreciation of art, she was familiar with the basic stories, so Jo's reference didn't fly entirely over her head.

"Oh, Jo! Don't be so dramatic! Frank is just excited to meet you, that's all!"

"I got that much, Blondie. My question is why?"

"Well...I may have mentioned you once or twice."

"Once or twice?" Frank guffawed to which Blair shot 'a look.'

"Where else can I safely air my grievances?" She covered.

The truth was that everyone at that bar knew everything there was to know about Joanna Marie Polniaczek. They knew about how Jo gave up her Kawasaki to stay with her friends, they knew about the time Jo stayed up all night to help Blair out of a toxic relationship, they knew that Jo could play the piano as smoothly as Cole Porter, and they knew that Blair Warner was hopelessly in love with her.

"So, that's what this place is? Your human resources department?"

"Ha, ha. Very funny. You might not believe it, Jo, but I've been coming here all my life."

"The rich start that early, huh?"

Blair glared before turning back to Frank, "A Michelob for Oliver Twist here, and I'll have a cider."

"Cider? I gotta say, Blair, I'm surprised! What happened to your fancy French wine?"

"Really, Jo. Use your brain. We're at a bar, not Le Petit Cheval! While I love this place, I don't feel ashamed for acknowledging that wine is simply not their forté."

It was hard to argue that. Jo should've known Blair wouldn't accept anything less than the best, and at a bar like this, their best was on tap.

"Here you go, ladies!" Frank set down their drinks before turning his attention to a particularly needy customer at the other end of the bar.

"So, I know it must be killing you..." Blair leaned into Jo, eyes twinkling with expectation.

"Your perfume? Yeah. Think I've got two more hours till I keel over."

Blair tossed her hair, "accidentally" hitting Jo in the face, "First of all, Chanel number five is a classic, and clearly a Barbarian like you will never be able to appreciate it! Secondly, I was talking about me! And this bar! You must be curious - how did Blair Warner, heiress and beauty extraordinaire, stumble upon a place so...different from myself?"

"I mean...yeah." Jo admitted.

Pleased to be met with little resistance, Blair began her tale, "It all started when I was a young babe. Only six years old and the richest little girl in all of Manhattan-"

Jo obnoxiously cleared her throat, "Let's cut the fat, yeah?"

"Fine," Blair sighed. "When I was six, Nanny Clara took me with her to this bar every Tuesday night. Of course, I realize now how wildly inappropriate that was, but I considered our trips here to be an adventure. This was a whole new world for me! The people were grungy, the music was loud...it was hardly the Met, but...I loved it. Maybe I loved it because it was so different. And I met people who didn't care how I looked or what I wore. Granted, I always looked perfect - naturally, BUT if I had a hair out of place or a loose thread on my blouse, no one thought anything of it. There were no lectures, no insults, I could just...be me. So, once I was sent to boarding school after boarding school, I took it upon myself to visit whenever I was back home, and well...this bar became a home of its own. Frank is..." She looked over at the bartender, her eyes shining with admiration, "he's like a father to me."

Listening, Jo was struck by the candid sincerity of Blair's words. The way she spoke now reminded her of that time they pulled an all-nighter for their finals at Eastland, and they both confessed they were nervous about graduating. That was one of the most honest conversations they ever had, and the vulnerability that Blair showed then reappeared now in her voice, her eyes...

"You're right."

Blair's attention turned back to Jo, "I'm sure I am, but what about?"

"You'll figure it out." Without further explanation, Jo tipped her glass. She'd get it soon enough.

"But-" Voice raised in protest, Blair was interrupted by a sudden chord of music.

All eyes zoomed to the corner of the bar, "How did I not notice the piano?" An old, wooden upright, the instrument was unassuming in its appearance.

Chuckling, Blair smoothly quipped, "Maybe you need to get your eyes checked."

"Maybe you need to get your face checked!"

"What are we, sixteen again?" Blair smirked and took a sip from her cider.

Hiding a smirk of her own, Jo got up from the bar, drink in hand, and approached the piano. "She's beautiful."

"Thank you! Was my wife's," Frank piped in.

"Divorced?"

"Dead."

"Ah...I'm sorry."

"Oh, that's all right! If she were here she'd say, what're you sorry for? You didn't clog my arteries!" Everyone at the bar had heard that line a million times by now, but with Frank's conviction, it never ceased to elicit a smile.

"Sounds like my kind of woman," Jo grinned.

"She was somethin' else...a lot like this one here, actually." Frank nodded towards Blair who was closely nursing her cider.

Jo understood, her voice dropping to a soft murmur, "She must've been real special."

Blair looked up from her cider, having missed the rest of the conversation, "Who?"

"Diane." Frank filled her in.

"Oh! Yes! Oh, Jo! You would have loved Diane! Gorgeous, well-read, talented, sharp as a tack!" The woman died when Blair was 12, but she was old enough to have fond memories of her. She was a role model for Blair, teaching her about music and art. Naturally, these were things Blair was already familiar with, but Diane introduced her to artists outside the realm of Mozart and Rembrandt. Through Diane, Blair discovered Frida Kahlo, Nina Simone, Emily Dickinson...she owed a lot to Diane.

"Did she have a favorite?" Cracking her fingers, Jo sat down at the piano.

Frank leaned back, scrolling through an endless catalogue of songs in his mind. After starting and stopping, the perfect one popped out, "Oh, I know! I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm - you know that one? She loved playing it on days like this!"

"Dean Martin, right?" Jo rested her fingers on the keys, adjusting herself to the quirks of the piano. "The snow is snowing, the wind it's blowing, but I can weather the storm..." she began, her unexpectedly sweet voice causing more than a few patrons to hush, "What do I care how much it may storm? I've got my love to keep me warm!"

As Jo sang, Blair beamed at a pleasantly surprised Frank, "I told you."

A crowd gathered around the pianist, voices clumsily joining in here and there at the lyrics they knew, but the only voice Jo could hear was Blair's - crystal clear - soaring above the rest. Tonight, there was a light quality in her voice that you didn't hear a lot. It wasn't that silly BS she put on for those poor suckers she flirted with - it was more like how Blair sounded the first time Jo ever heard her sing. It was about a month after Jo'd arrived at Eastland. Blair was taking a shower, and from out in the hall, Jo could hear her voice - like a bird - chirping out one of those old Sinatra hits. At first, Jo hated the fact that Blair was a good singer - just one more thing to add to that gigantic ego! But there was no denying her voice was beautiful. Soon, it became a habit. Blair would take a shower, and Jo would linger in the hallway, listening to her sing. Sometimes, Jo felt like a creep, but that's not what she was trying to do. She just...really liked the sound of Blair's voice.

And tonight, her voice was just as carefree as if she was in the shower.

Jo would've played all night if the song had let her.

"I've got my love to keep me waaaaaaaaaarm!" The last line was met with cheers, and Jo joined in, taking a swig of her beer.

"Encore! Encore!" Frank shouted from behind the bar.

Jo blushed, "Aw, nah! I'll let someone else have a turn!"

"Blair, why don't you play a little something?" Someone in the crowd called out.

Jo looked on in amusement. Blair Warner was many things, but she wasn't a pianist!

"Oh, no, I couldn't!" Blair modestly declined.

"C'mon, Blair! Play that one song!" Another voice piped in.

"I only know one song!" She laughed.

"For me?" A warm request from Frank.

"You know I can't resist those eyes!" Lovingly patting his cheek, Blair rose from her stool to a round of cheers from the crowd. Normally, she didn't like to play in front of more than two or three people, but once she had some alcohol in her system, Blair was far more inclined to take chances.

Freeing up the bench for her friend, Jo leaned up against the wall just to the right of the piano.

After taking her seat, Blair stared at the piano for a moment, remembering which hand starts where while re-familiarizing herself with the chord progressions of the song before placing her hands upon the keys. Diane had taught her the basics of playing the piano, but Blair never found the patience to get past a beginner's level. However, there was one song she would always practice with, and that song would later become the only song she knew how to play:

"I've got you under my skin..."


End file.
